Plan of Action
by Lily McIntire
Summary: What staged Beckett's entrance in her evening gown in front of her boys? Why, Kbex herself. With a little help from a certain friend of Scotland Yard. Blurbish. Minor spoilers for "The Limey".


_In re-watching "The Limey", I had this thought._ _Enjoy._

**Plan of Action**_  
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><p>"Inspector Detective Hunt?" Her hidden heels clicked towards him as he spiffed up in the window glass of Interrogation I.<p>

"Detective Beckett." He smiled before he turned to her, straightening his bow tie.

"I need…would you do me a favor?" She looked uneasy, playing with her fingers.

"As much as I'd love to say yes, I'd also love to remain employed." He raised his chin, poking fun at her. Except her stomach was in knots, and she wasn't sure she should, could, play this game.

"Look for me. I want to get a reaction out of the boys." The words fell flat off of her tongue and into the quieted atmosphere of the precinct after seven p.m. They sounded weird and a little narcissistic, but she was still working up to talking to Castle about the way that she felt about him – what words would she say? – and she was hoping that this, the way she looked right then with her hair done up and her shoulders bare, would keep him from distancing himself further. Maybe even reel him back in some…until they could talk. After the case. She was hoping she would find the words by the end of the case.

"You want to have a little fun, then?" She held her breath in anticipation of his answer. "Think I can do that. Yeah. Practice for Wyndham." Her smile broke through. "Though if I may, Detective, I found you unequivocally ravishing." His eyes broke from hers as he buttoned the single button of his jacket, and turned to go. "Better find 'em, first. Say three minutes?"

"Less." Releasing her withheld breath on that one word, she sounded winded, but her heart was pattering fast and nervously, and she didn't care. She skittered throughout the precinct on her toes to evade all ears of her presence, hearing Castle's voice from behind the murder board. Why, she dared wonder, was the board flipped to its clean side? _Probably drawing little hearts with the initials R&J inside. On _my _murder board. Probably with the arrow punched through it, and everything._ The scar in the center of her sternum seemed to ache at the thought, her chest suddenly tight as the muscles had been while she worked through rehab that past summer. Arrows through hearts – or bullets, for that matter – were not comfortable. She didn't understand why that heart and arrow image was so popular…although, she would admit, that love is pain.

"Excuse me, gents. Has anyone seen Detective Beckett?" Her cue. Go.

Foot catching on her dress, she took a faulty first step, the sound of which was muffled by the fabric of her flattering black evening gown. She recovered with ease, thank God, and approached the murder board from a distance, walking around it (no obvious hearts drawn), eyes immediately pulled to Castle's handsome outline – though she quickly averted his eyes, going for the classic 'I know you're checking me out: watch me avoid you and draw you in further' appeal. Tugging on her fingers, she asserted with a glance to the ground that her steps were not wobbly (though if he gave her one of their looks, she didn't doubt that her knees would go weak), and finally cast her gaze onto Castle.

Was he looking. Just. Not how he…he was only admiring her body. Not her. Not Kate. Just a body.

"Woow…uuh, you guys goin' out?" Ryan wouldn't have passed a verbal sobriety test. She managed to remain at ease, glad to see Hunt making his way to her side.

"I pulled some strings and got us into a party at the British Consulate tonight." His arm was out. Why was he doing that?

Oh. It was…for her. She hadn't – she awkwardly curled her wrist and hand around his elbow – taken someone's arm besides Castle's…in a long time. Josh didn't even do much that classy. But Castle…

"Nigel'll be there - we'll get his prints and he won't even know it." Words were progress.

"Cheers lads." Her 'date' turned her with him, switching arms, moving them swiftly away from the trio of (metaphorically) open-mouthed men. Anxiously, she tucked a few loose strands of hair behind her ear, letting her arm fall to bent at the elbow, fingers glittering the edge of her hip bone.

"I'd say they were a bit shocked, wouldn't you?" His strides were shorter than Castle's, and it took her a few steps to sync with his.

"Well played. Thank you." They were kind of like partners in crime, now.

"Any time."

Maybe she'd thought-spoken too soon: Castle would have said 'always'.

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